


Burned

by sherlock_is_actually_a_girls_name



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Baking, Birthday Cake, First Kiss, Fluff, Idiots in Love, John Watson's Birthday, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Season/Series 04, Sherlock Has a Plan, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson Being Idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27279181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlock_is_actually_a_girls_name/pseuds/sherlock_is_actually_a_girls_name
Summary: Sherlock is trying to bake a cake for John's birthday on Rosie's insistence. What happens when he gets distracted and accidentally burns himself?
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 64





	Burned

**Author's Note:**

> Thenks to the anon on tumblr who gave me this prompt:  
> ""Hey, for the johnlock prompts. Maybe you can do something on the lines of one of them trying to bake something to surprise the other but it doesn’t turn out good at all (maybe they burn themselves in the process) ""

Sherlock put John's birthday cake in the oven. When he turned around, Rosie was standing there, on her toes, her arms spread over her head.  
"Sh'lock!" Rosie exclaimed. Sherlock swung her into the air and she squealed in delight.  
Sherlock grinned, carrying her into the living room. He sat with Rosie at the couch and when she begged him to continue his explanation of chemicals used in the laboratory, he did.  
She suddenly stopped and sniffed the air. "Do you smell something burnin'?"  
Sherlock cursed inwardly and rushed toward the kitchen. In his haste to get the cake out from the oven, he forgot to wear rubber gloves. The heat assaulted his fingers, burning them badly. He yelled out in pain.  
Rosie jumped in surprise hearing Sherlock’s scream. She ran over to the kitchen on her small feet. "Sh'lock? Are you okay?" She asked, her voice small, afraid.  
Sherlock composed himself, and hid his hand behind his back. "I'm fine, little bee. Why don't you run over to Mrs Hudson and ask her to play with you?"  
Rosie nodded solemnly and ran downstairs.  
Sherlock glanced at the cake. It wasn't that burned. If he refrigerated it soon enough, it might be salvageable.  
He set to work, refrigerating it first, then after a few minutes, he started doing the frosting.  
The burn on his hand was completely forgotten. All that mattered was getting the cake to be good enough.  
This had originally been Rosie's idea and Sherlock had only just started baking to please her, but now that he had started it, he wanted the cake to be perfect. It was, after all, for John.  
Just when he was about to take the cake out of the fridge, he heard John's footsteps on the staircase. He was late.  
Sherlock put the cake back into the fridge just in time, and bent over his microscope, pretending to be busy.  
"Sherlock." John said, peeking his head into the kitchen. "Are you alright?" He asked.  
"Yes, John." Sherlock knew that if John noticed the burn or the cake, he would go into doctor mode on his birthday and fuss over Sherlock. "How is Sarah," he blurted. He knew that would distract John.  
John cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Yeah, about that…."  
Sherlock looked up in surprise, his eyebrows raised. He hadn't expected John to be uncomfortable.  
"We broke up a week ago."  
Sherlock tried to keep his excitement and delight from showing on his face; he knew he was being selfish.  
"Why?" He asked.  
"Well, um. It was because of…"  
"Because of?"  
"Never mind, I don't want to say it."  
"Alright," Sherlock muttered. He got back to staring at his microscope in silence. He knew he shouldn't be happy. But he was.  
Oh god, was he happy.  
John walked toward the bathroom quietly.  
As usual, John had seen but hadn't observed, and for once, Sherlock was glad. He had failed to notice the frosting at the front of Sherlock's shirt and the fact that Sherlock had been hiding his smile behind the microscope but didn't actually have any slides on.  
When John came out of the shower, however, Sherlock was surprised. John was calm, composed. The expression he carried was determined.  
This was John's soldier face. He carried the expression into battle, on the London streets where they caught criminals. Sherlock wasn't unfamiliar with it, but he wondered what had brought it on today.  
"What's wrong?" He asked John.  
John said nothing and grabbed Sherlock's arm. Sherlock rose from the chair, even more confused than before.  
"Wha-?"  
As soon as he stood up, John crowded him against the kitchen counter. Sherlock's thoughts went to completely inappropriate things as his eyes dropped to John's lips. He said nothing, but he didn't push John away either.  
They stared at each other in silence until-  
Until John's grip on Sherlock’s arm loosened and his fingers slipped slowly down his arm. Sherlock stared at John in awe. He had no clue what John was thinking.  
Gently, John caressed his palm. That stung, Sherlock couldn't remember why, but he managed not to yelp or move away. John brought their hands up between them. He glanced down at their hands, then gently, looking Sherlock in the eyes, said, "What the fuck?"  
That jolted Sherlock from his trans and he snatched his hand from John's grip.  
"Sherlock!" John yelled. "What the fuck happened to your hand!? And why didn't you tell me you've been burned?"  
Sherlock moved away. "Nothing," He said, trying not to sound sheepish.  
"Did you actually think I wouldn't notice? I had thought something was wrong when I saw you hide your hand under the table," John was yelling again, but his back was turned and he was rummaging through the medicine cabinet, no doubt, searching for the burn cream.  
Sherlock sighed and got out the cake. When John turned around, he was standing there, with the cake he had baked in his hand.  
John's mouth fell open. "You remembered?"  
"Yes of course I did. Although the cake was originally Rosie's idea."  
"Thank uou, Sherlock, this…. This really means a lot." John stared at the cake, then back up at Sherlock. "And now," he said, grabbing the cake and placing it on the kitchen table, "Let me put some ointment on that goddamn burn, you idiot."  
He dabbed at the burn with a cotton ball dipped in burn cream and Sherlock hissed behind teeth, but held still. He stared at the top of John's golden hair, glinting in the sunlight.  
John's eyes suddenly met Sherlock's and even though he had finished applying the ointment, neither of them moved away.  
He continued to stare as John's eyes dropped to his lips for a split second.  
Before he could understand what was happening, John kissed him, his eyes closed, free hand coming up to cup Sherlock's face.  
Sherlock kissed him back, a gentle, inviting pressure, but kept his eyes open. He wanted to memorize every second of this kiss so that he could store it in his mind palace. He didn't know if John was going to regret it later on or if-  
John pulled away. He was grinning. "So...." he cleared his throat again, "Did… did you like that?" He asked.  
"Definitely." Sherlock said without hesitation. "I would certainly be amenable if you wanted to…. um, if you wanted to do it again."  
John chuckled and leaned over to throw the soiled cotton into the dustbin.  
He wound his arms around Sherlock's waist, giving him a small kiss on the cheek. "I'm not as stupid as you think, you know." He said, smiling, "I noticed you trying to hide your smile behind the microscope and that you weren't actually looking at any slides. And for the record, Sarah and I broke up because I couldn't stop thinking or talking about you every time we met or did anything together. She thought I was in love with you. Still thinks so."  
Sherlock raised his eyebrows. "And? Are you?"  
"Mhmm," John said, nodding his head in affirmation.  
"So am I. Been for a long time." Sherlock grinned.  
Now, it was Sherlock who leaned in.


End file.
